


The Undercover Undergraduate

by rudbeckia



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bodyguard Romance, Denial of Feelings, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Roommates, Secret Identity, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 21:29:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20234668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudbeckia/pseuds/rudbeckia
Summary: Prince Ben Organa of Alderaan is starting university undercover as Perfectly Ordinary Student Kylo Ren to prove to his parents that he can look after himself. as a precaution, he has had bodyguards assigned to look after him.Major Armitage Hux makes one mistake in teaching Kylo how to cope with undergraduate life: he catches feelings for his unwitting client.(This started as a twitfic from prompts including modern au & secret royalty but I forgot the rest)





	The Undercover Undergraduate

Kylo sighs and frowns at the room. It’s small, clean and modern, with no individual touches at all. It is also identical to the other five bedrooms in the student flat he’s been assigned to. He knows, because the first thing he did after being dropped off with his key and his backpack was walk from room to boxy room so that he could claim the best one for himself before anyone else turned up to fill the empty apartment.

Almost empty. When he’d flung open the door of the middle room on the left of the shared open-plan kitchen-dining-lounge area, a pale, pink-faced redhead yelled at him to fuck off. He’s standing now in the doorway of the room next door, sandwiched between the angry redhead’s room and the thick, exterior wall. He looks around. It’s this one between the outside and the man so quiet it’s like he’s not even there, or a room beside the bathroom or backing onto the next apartment in the block. Kylo sighs again and slings his backpack onto the single bed so that he can unpack.

On his parents’ advice, most of what he has brought is new and from a forgettable budget-brand chain store, and he hates it. He hangs up shirts and spare jeans, pulls a face at the multipacks of vests and socks, and puts his sportswear in a drawer. At least, he thinks with a half-smile, he talked them into letting him keep his designer running shoes and silk boxers on the basis that fancy sports shoes were not that unusual for someone starting college, and nobody would care about his underwear.

A sound in the communal area catches his ear and Kylo turns, glancing in the mirror set into the wardrobe door at the perfectly forgettable figure who glares back. It rankles, but that’s how he’s supposed to look. As forgettable as every other undergraduate in the student village. He thinks he’s supposed to be excited about starting a new stage of his life, nineteen years old and as free of his parents’ influence as it was possible to negotiate. He peers out of his room.

“Hi, sorry about earlier.” It’s the rude redhead. “I wasn’t expecting... I’m Hux.”  
“Kylo,” Kylo says, looking at the man’s outstretched hand. His fingers are long and fine and his wrist is slender. Kylo reaches out to clasp it just as Hux gives up, and he misses.  
“Oh?” Hux smiles. It doesn’t suit him much, Kylo thinks. “Well, nice to meet you, Kylo. What classes are you taking?”  
“Uh,” Kylo says, frowning. “English lit, history and philosophy,” he says when it’s clear that Hux won’t accept a shrug and silence for an answer.  
Hux’s eyebrows rise. “Well then, we can be study buddies. I’m taking the same classes as you.”  
“That’s,” Kylo grinds out through gritted teeth, “nice.” Hit by a sudden desire to be somewhere else, anywhere else, Kylo adds, “Excuse me. I need to change. I’m going for a run.”  
“Excellent!” Hux says, receding back to his own space and getting louder as he goes. “Meet you back out here in a minute. I’ll show you the best path to the lake. Will five miles be enough? Around eight minute mile pace?”  
Kylo lets his grim face slide into surprise. Five miles is an unlooked-for challenge, and he hates to lose.

The run is bracing. A hint of blowy Autumn drizzle has settled over campus, and Hux sets a pace that is too slow at first but ramps up to be manageably tough. They don’t speak at all other than occasional grunts from Hux as he points the way to the purpose made lake in the park just off campus. Here and there, Kylo wonders if the other park users are there to watch him. He’s been warned about being followed, lectured about keeping up his anonymity, sermonised about secrecy. He is supposed to be Kylo Ren, only son of a small business owner and a social worker, a boy who just scraped the entry requirements for his course. Completely unremarkable. But someone might know better. He wonders if he’ll get back to his residence to find his bodyguard waiting to tell him off for vanishing with a stranger, and the thought makes him grin.

When he does walk through the apartment door, pretending his legs are just fine thank you very much, two more bedroom doors are open and two more students are yelling at each other over Queen’s greatest hits. A dark-haired boy with pale skin comes out of the room on the opposite side of Hux’s and turns down the music. He waves and vanishes back into his room then emerges again carrying a box which he takes to the kitchen area and starts unloading. The other room door, directly opposite Kylo’s, opens to reveal a tall blonde woman. Kylo looks her up and down and decides he wouldn’t want to face her in a fistfight. She stares back.

“Well?” Her voice is lighter than Kylo expects.  
“Hi. I’m Kylo Ren.” He looks for any sign of recognition that would give away that she is his bodyguard. There’s a frown and a shrug, then a smile. Kylo smiles back.  
“I’m Phasma.” She points at the kitchen. “That’s Dopheld.”  
The dark-haired man waves. “My folks sent me with food. Said I’d make friends easier if I fed people. Happy to share, if anyone’s interested?”  
Kylo walks over but Phasma is faster. She takes a cookie from the scratched, repurposed tartan shortbread tin, crams most of it in her mouth and makes appreciative noises.  
“That ith tho gooth,” she says, hand over her mouth. Kylo watches in fascination at this public display of uncouth behaviour. Phasma swallows twice. “Really good. Thanks, Doph!”  
Kylo takes a cookie too and nibbles on it. He’s glad to have Phasma looking out for him and the cookie is, in fact, delicious.

Hux emerges from the bathroom, damp and pink and fragrant. He’s wearing a bathrobe that Kylo is sure is silk and he trails an air of pleasantly expensive scents behind him.  
“Dopheld brought cookies,” Kylo calls over.  
“Oh? Good,” Hux wanders over and opens the cupboard nearest the fridge. “I claimed this space,” he announces. “Just the top shelf. There’s room for a full shelf each and we can label whatever goes in the fridge.”  
“We noticed,” Phasma says with a wink at Kylo, opening the fridge and lifting out a litre carton of vanilla soy with a line drawn across it an inch down from the top and HUX sharpied on the side.  
Kylo laughs at Hux’s scowl.  
“Well, from my experience, it will prevent arguments if we set some boundaries,” Hux says. “This isn’t the first time I’ve had to share a flat. Sometimes you get flatmates who have no idea where the food in the fridge comes from because mum or dad replaces it every other day.”  
“What about communal stuff?” Kylo asks. “Like... I dunno. Milk?”  
“You can all make your own arrangements,” Hux says. “It only leads to arguments. So anything with my name on it is off-limits.”  
“That’s fair,” Dopheld says with a shrug. “Hux, can I borrow your sharpie?”

Hux smiles and fetches a maker pen. Dopheld puts the lid back on his cookie tin and writes on it, in small, neat capitals, _NOT HUX_ and slides it into the centre of the table. Hux rolls his eyes and walks back to his room, closing the door quietly while everybody tries not to giggle.  
“Excuse me,” Kylo says after a minute more of watching Dopheld unpack his substantial care package. “Gotta go shower. Been running with Hux.”  
“Have you now?” Phasma says with a smile. “He seems... nice.”  
“Yeah, I thought so.” Kylo opens the fridge and takes out Hux’s vanilla soy. Phasma and Dopheld watch, scandalised, as Kylo downs a third of it straight from the container and puts it back.  
“Huh,” he says. “That’s actually really good. I thought it would be as sour as he is.”

The bathroom is bigger than Kylo would expect for one person and far smaller than he thinks will be needed for six people. He sets his wash bag on the shelf, hangs his towel on the rail and looks at the shower controls. There’s no tap or temperature control, just a push button set into the grey tiles on the wall. He presses it and tepid water gushes out from the spray above his head for about ten seconds then cuts off. At least, he thinks, he needn’t worry about his roommates taking up time luxuriating in long, hot showers. He’s standing in a bathtub that has seen better days and the shower screen looks like someone tried their most futile best to make it clean. There’s a long, narrow window running the length of the wall above the bath and Kylo studies the bottles carefully grouped at the far end. He grins, wets his hair and skin, and uses the fancy products that can only belong to Hux. When he’s done, he’s careful to reposition everything exactly where it was and then he places his own, a supermarket own-brand all-in-one product in a pump action one litre bottle, beside Hux’s things.

Kylo towels off, wraps the towel around his waist and saunters out, finger combing his hair and dripping onto the blue cord carpet of the communal area. He pauses and goes back for his used sports kit that still adorns the bathroom floor, then retreats to his room with a nod to Dopheld and Phasma, who are helping two more people negotiate backpacks and boxes through the narrow doors. One, a boy who looks like a child prodigy, chooses the room opposite Hux and the other, a girl with sharp features and black hair twisted into a bun, gratefully accepts help with her belongings from Phasma. Kylo closes his door, sits on his bed still wearing only his towel, and wonders what the fuck made him think this was a good idea.

But only for a few minutes because he’s hungry and there’s no food in the kitchen with his name scrawled on it. Kylo gets dressed, kicking his dirty clothes into a corner, and taps on Hux’s door.  
“What?” The voice is sharp. Kylo bites his lip, reddening at the sudden thought that Hux might not be dressed.  
“Um, Hux? Can I ask you a favour?” Kylo waits. He hears shuffling and the door opens  
Hux appears, looking cool in a pale blue shirt and jeans.  
“Well?” Hux says.  
“You seem to know your way around,” Kylo says. “I need to go buy food.”  
He can’t decipher the look on Hux’s face. Amusement? Derision? Hux’s lips tighten then twitch.  
“Of course you do,” Hux says. “Grab your coat and bring your backpack.” Almost as an afterthought, Hux yells after Kylo, “And your wallet!”

Kylo, to his shame, has no idea what to buy. He allows Hux to load his basket then stops him with a hand on his elbow.  
“Hey, I appreciate this,” Kylo says quietly. “But I don’t know how to cook.”  
“As I assumed,” Hux replies. “Look,” he turns to face Kylo and speaks more quietly. “Do you want to join forces just for the next couple of weeks? I mean, if you pay for the shopping I’ll give you cooking lessons. I can teach you how to make a few easy meals and once you get confident with the basics you can go it alone after that.”  
Kylo holds back a laugh. “What if it leads to arguments?”  
“I suppose I can make an exception,” Hux says with a sudden grin that lights up his face. “On condition you replace my vanilla Alpro and use a glass in future.”

As soon as they get back, Hux makes Kylo label everything and put it away, claiming the bottom half of ‘his’ cupboard for Kylo’s things.  
“You’ll regret it if you don’t,” he warns. “When you wake up and want your cereal and there’s nothing left. Trust me,” Hux wags a finger at Kylo. “Anything left out, unlabelled and unattended is generally considered fair game. Flat etiquette.”  
“It’s true,” Phasma walks past and fills the kettle. “Middle cupboard is mine and Unamo’s. Doph and Thanisson have the end one.” She opens the cupboard and extracts a pack of Maggi noodles, breaking them into a large mug. “Doph suggested we take turns to make Sunday lunch for everyone. Limit five pounds. Want in?”  
Hux gives Kylo an evil look. “Why not,” he says. “Kylo, you want to cook this Sunday?”  
Kylo shakes his head. But Hux smiles and nods so he replies, “I guess?”  
“Okay,” Phasma punches Kylo on the arm. “I’d offer you one of Doph’s cookies as a thank you but we ate them all while you were out.”  
“Keep your expectations low,” Kylo calls after her as she walks back to her room with a steaming mug of noodles.  
Hux opens Phasma’s cupboard and laughs at the array of cup noodles, pot rice and instant-pasta-in-a-mug packets. “Don’t worry, Kylo. It looks like we’ve just seen all of Phasma’s culinary skills. You hungry?”  
Kylo nods. “Ravenous.”  
“Okay. Let me show you how to cook pasta with arrabbiata sauce.”

The cooking lesson is messy but fun. Hux sits at the table and gives instructions while Kylo does all the work. Hux tuts at the state of the kitchenware that came with the apartment: blackened and dented pans, blunted knives, a single wooden spoon too small to be of much use and a colander that gapes where the plastic has cracked. It takes almost an hour, but Kylo eventually slides two plates in front of Hux for inspection.  
“Parmesan?” Hux says.  
Kylo rolls his eyes and returns with a steel peppercorn grinder, a grater and a wedge of hard cheese. Hux opens the cheese, grates some over both plates then sharpies a line across the plastic pack to show how much is left.  
“Is that really necessary?” Kylo says, grumpily. “Seems petty.”  
“Trust me,” Hux replies. “Nobody _means_ to steal your food, but if you don’t make a fuss about your property you’ll have five people _borrowing_ and telling themselves they’ll replace it. But they never do. Next thing you know, you go to make a cake and there’s only a scraping of butter left with toast crumbs stuck in it, or you know you bought half a dozen eggs but when you want an omelette there’s only one.”  
Kylo looks up at that, face a picture of pure delight. “Really? Can we bake a cake?”

The next week passes in a blur. On Monday, all six new friends face the matriculation line together and laugh at each others’ ID cards. On Tuesday, Hux walks to classes with Kylo, takes him to register at the library and walks back with him, discussing the required reading and complaining about the lack of sufficient copies of the required books in the library. On Wednesday they are assigned to the same tutorial groups and Kylo gets the first inkling of how little he knows when Professor Tekka singles him out for questioning on common features of modern religions. In the evening, when Phasma sits close to Unamo on one of the uncomfortable sofas and Thanisson checks nobody is paying heed and slips into Dopheld’s room, Kylo sits at the kitchen table at right angles to Hux and, in hushed voices, they compare notes on the history class pre-reading task and fill in gaps for one another. By Thursday they are happily arguing about every point, with Hux taking the same line as the lecturers and Kylo spreading his own interpretation over everything like frosting on the cake they have yet to make. When Kylo strays too far into fancy, Hux brings him back to the point with a quiet, intense glare and a murmur of, _you do want to pass, right?_  
On Friday, just for the sake of it, Kylo tries out Hux’s strategy of paraphrasing his tutor and the worst thing Professor Holdo says about his resulting essay outline is that he needs to format his references properly. All six flatmates go to the Freshers’ Fair party in the student union in the evening, where Doph and Thanisson melt into the crowd at the bar and vanish, and although Phasma and Unamo wander away, Kylo keeps seeing them in the throngs around all the stalls.

On Saturday, Kylo is panicking. Hux watches him pace the living area.  
“I can’t do it, Hux,” he says eventually.  
“You’ve been here a week, Kylo. You don’t know shit about what you can and can’t do yet.”  
“I mean it,” Kylo says, completing one more circuit of the kitchen table and the two sofas. “I can’t.” He stops and takes a deep breath. “I’m setting myself up to fail. They were right.”  
“Who?” Hux says, poised ready to get up.  
“My parents.” Kylo takes a deep breath and collapses onto a groaning sofa. “They said I wouldn’t last.”  
“Ah.” Hux moves to sit opposite Kylo and kicks his feet gently. “That’s utter bollocks. Is it the workload? I can help you plan so you spread out your reading. And you know I’m always up for bouncing ideas around.”  
“No, you ass!” Kylo says. “I have to cook for everyone tomorrow. And you’ve been great at teaching me how to make pasta with tomato sauce but even you must be sick of eating that all the time by now.”  
Hux’s lips twitch but he suppresses his laugh. “Well then,” he says. “What would you like to add to the tomato sauce?”

Kylo gives a morose little shrug. Hux suggests they shop right before closing time to see what’s reduced for quick sale and decide what to make based on what they can get. This doesn’t settle Kylo’s mind much, but Hux more or less orders him into his running kit and sets a punishing pace that leaves him breathless then elated. Hux showers first, as usual, and Kylo uses Hux’s fancy products, as usual. The supermarket closes at eight so they arrive at seven and hang around while a shop assistant stickers the short-dated items. Kylo hangs back but Hux smiles and chats with the assistant and gains a rotisserie half-chicken, a small tub of creme fraiche and some slightly sad looking herbs before the rest of the waiting customers descend on the sale shelf. He drops the packets into the basket and nods to Kylo.  
“It pays to be nice to people who can help you out,” Hux says. “Make them want to help you.”  
Kylo chews his lower lip. “So you were flirting because you’d get first pick of the cheap food?”  
“Of course,” Hux says with a laugh, and Kylo grins back.

They complete their shopping trip by spending the all that remains of their budget on dried pasta, a small bag of frozen peas and the tiniest fragment of parmesan from the deli counter. On the walk back, Hux describes to Kylo what he’s going to learn to make and Kylo relaxes.  
“I thought cooking would be harder than this,” he says once Hux has explained how to make a little chicken look like a lot. “Where did you learn?”  
“My mother taught me the basics,” Hux replies, “and the rest I learned in the army.”  
“You were in the army?” Kylo gapes at Hux. “I can’t imagine that. Private Hux! Attention!”  
Hux laughs. “That’s Major Hux to you, cadet! I got a transfer and promotion to major when—” Hux stops and puffs out a sigh, shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter. I had the opportunity to expand my education, so here I am.”  
“Major Hux,” Kylo says with a thoughtful frown. “So how old are you?”  
“Twenty four,” Hux replies. “I made major early. I could end up being the youngest ever general one day.”  
“Wait,” Kylo stops and frown at Hux. “You’re _still_ in the military?”  
“Yes and no,” Hux replies. “I’m suspended from active service so that I can attend classes on condition I’m not needed elsewhere. Look,” Hux stops and turns to face Kylo. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone. I want everyone else to see me as... just another uptight mature student.”  
“I won’t say anything,” Kylo says after a few seconds. “To be honest, I’m not sure I even believe it myself. Do you have a uniform?”  
Hux grins. “Yes, but not with me.”

Kylo’s meal, guided by Hux, goes well. Mitaka arranges a Sunday lunch rota for the rest of the term and tapes it to the fridge door. The six students settle into a routine punctuated with squabbles over who spends too long in the shower, the origins of various upsetting odours in the fridge, and who doesn’t wash their dishes quickly enough for the next person to use. Hux and Kylo still walk to class together, sit together, study together, cook together and go running together, until one overcast Wednesday morning half way through the teaching block when Kylo wakes with a pounding head and leaden limbs.

Hux taps on his door. “Kylo? Time to get up.”  
Kylo groans and fumbles for his phone. He fully intends to yell, “fuck off,” at Hux but all that comes out is a dry rasp.  
“Kylo! Get your arse out of your bunk right now!” Hux bangs the door harder and Kylo feels every sound reverberate painfully in his skull. He sits up and stands slowly, head spinning, tries to walk the three steps to the door but everything feels slanted so he stumbles and falls back onto the bed.  
“I’m coming in, in three,” Hux calls. “You better not be naked. Two. One!”  
Hux pushes Kylo’s door open, gapes and laughs. “You look like death warmed up.” Kylo raises his middle finger. “There’s a virus going round. Looks like you caught it. Move over.”  
Kylo shuffles across his bed to make room for Hux to sit down. Hux touches the back of his hand to Kylo’s forehead and Kylo feels for a second that the throbbing lessens a little.  
“Headache?” Kylo nods. “Sore throat? Lost voice?”  
“Both,” Kylo croaks.  
“I don’t think you have a fever,” Hux says. “I’ll bring you some tea and some painkillers. I have to go to classes but I can tutor you in what you miss when you recover. From what I’ve heard, you can expect to feel like utter shit for two or three days then start feeling better.”  
Kylo pulls the covers back over himself and groans softly. Hux pats the lump that is his hip three times then gets up and goes out. He returns with a flask of tea, a glass of water and the promised painkillers. When Kylo sits up the headache pounds even harder on the inside of his skull. He screws his eyes shut, takes the capsules Hux gives him and sips the water.  
“I’ll make sure you get fed at lunchtime,” Hux says. “You may as well sleep it off if you can.”  
“I’m actually dying,” Kylo croaks. Hux laughs and pats his hip again before he leaves.

Kylo drifts into uncomfortable slumber with the muffled sounds of low voices outside his door. He wakes up again some time later when there’s a sharp knock on his door, and he blinks at a stab of daylight from the gap in the curtains. The door opens a little.  
“Are you decent?”  
Kylo sits up slowly with the covers around him as Phasma shoulders her way into his room. She’s carrying two plastic pots of instant noodles.  
“Hux said you should have lunch. I made you a spicy one to warm your throat.”  
Kylo reaches for it gratefully, surprised when his stomach growls. Phasma opens the window then sits in his chair. He can’t taste anything, but his tongue tingles and his throat feels easier when he tries to say thank you.  
“I’ll be out there,” Phasma says, pointing to the shared social area the bedrooms all open onto. “Studying. Yell if you need anything.”  
Kylo rolls his eyes at her and she laughs. “I’ll wedge your door open and you can throw your pillow out at me or something.”  
He’s about to ask for water when he remembers the flask of tea Hux made. It’s still hot enough to drink. He decides he won’t fall asleep again. He’ll just close his eyes for a few moments.  
The next time Kylo wakes he hears Phasma chatting outside his door and recognises Unamo’s voice too. They’re giggling about something but the laughter stops when he shuffles into the social area. He waves his towel and points at the bathroom.  
“Need a shower,” he croaks.  
“No kidding!” Phasma replies.  
Kylo shuffles off to the bathroom. As he’s closing the door, he catches a glimpse of Unamo sliding back across the sofa and into Phasma’s lap. He watches for a few seconds, unobserved, then gets into the shower.

Hux returns from classes a couple of hours later with notes and copies of the next set of required reading texts. He checks in on Kylo and drops two books onto his desk.  
“I told Professor Tekka you were sick. He noticed you weren’t there.” Hux smiles. “He was very nice about it. I said you would probably be off for a couple of days and he offered to give you a one to one catchup tutorial when you feel up to it, if you like.”  
Kylo blinks at Hux and raises his eyebrows. Hux finds the relevant pages of Kylo’s philosophy textbook and marks them with paperclips.  
“I told him that was very kind of him. He said he promised your mother he’d look out for you.” Hux meets Kylo’s gaze. “You didn’t tell me Prof. Tekka was a friend of the family. He’s Alderaanian, I believe.”  
Kylo shrugs. “I didn’t know,” he manages to say before his voice gives out.  
Hux waits, still watching Kylo. Kylo supplies the agreed story in a wheezy breath. “My mom’s a social worker, not a philosopher.”  
“Well then,” Hux says brightly. “Perhaps your mom has a more interesting history than you think.”  
Kylo gets the feeling that Hux knows he’s lying and he braces for questions that don’t come.

By the weekend, Kylo is feeling well enough to be unable to feign illness convincingly. On Saturday morning, Hux breezes in, opens his notebook on Kylo’s desk, throws Kylo’s towel at him and points at the door.  
“Get your arse out of bed and into the shower,” he says. “Philosophy tutorial in five minutes, then History. After that, I will make lunch and we will discuss how effective _Heart of Darkness_ is as a critique of imperialism and we will structure our essays to be different enough not to raise suspicion.”  
“I’m sick, Hux!” Kylo protests, but Armitage takes clean underwear and a clean vest top from Kylo’s closet and holds them out.  
“Not sick enough for my sympathy. And you stink. Up!”

Kylo grumbles all the way to the bathroom. When he emerges ten minutes later smelling of Hux’s toiletries and wearing clean underwear, he sees Thanisson slipping out of Doph’s room in his underpants and scurrying to the kitchen. Kylo goes back to his own room, kicks his dirty clothing onto the laundry heap and drapes his towel over the open wardrobe door.  
“Everyone’s paired up, have you noticed?” Kylo sits on his bed and contemplates joggers or shorts or jeans. He pulls on the shorts. “I see Phasma and Unamo together wherever I go, and Thanisson seems to have moved into Doph’s room.”  
Hux watches Kylo for a few seconds as he finds a clean shirt and pulls it on. “I noticed,” he says. “Doesn’t matter. We’re here to go over metaphysics, not to gossip.”  
Kylo sighs and pulls his philosophy textbook out from the pile on the floor and sits back down on his bed. “It’s just,” he says then stops. Hux turns to face him and pulls his chair closer, so close their knees almost touch.  
“It’s just what, Kylo?”  
“This will sound lame and sad and stupid.”  
Hux twitches a smile. “Tell me anyway. If you want.”  
Kylo meets his gaze for only a second. “Well,” he says then sighs. “I thought, you know, going away to university would be... Different.”  
“Different? In what way?” Hux leans forward a little. Kylo wonders if he’s going to put a soothing hand on his knee and decides he’d like that.  
“You know. Freedom. Find a girl or a boy you like. Go out, stay out all night.” Kylo sighs again. “But we’ve only been to a couple of parties and everyone seems to be hooked up already.”  
“Oh.” Hux seems to be struggling to hide a smile. “You’re annoyed that you haven’t got laid yet?”  
“Aren’t you?” Kylo glares at Hux now. Hux’s lips twitch at the edges,  
“Am I annoyed that you haven’t got laid yet?”  
“No!” Kylo grabs his pillow and thumps Hux with it when Hux dissolves into laughter. “You do know what I mean. Phasma and Unamo have each other. Doph and Thanisson have each other. Shit, even those aerospace weirdos Ray, Finn and Poe from across the hall walk around like the happiest threesome on the planet.” Kylo takes his pillow back from Hux and holds on to it. “But I have not found anyone yet. And you can’t have either since you’ve been looking after me.”  
Hux puts that slender but warm hand on Kylo’s knee at last, squeezes once then releases, lifts it and slaps it down again. Kylo complains with a _hey!_ at the sharp sound and the sting on his skin. Hux laughs again.  
“Well then,” he says with a grin. “Since we’re in the same boat, perhaps we should be together.”  
Kylo laughs. Hux can’t be serious. “I mean it,” Hux says. “People probably assume we’re a couple already since we spend a lot of time together. Maybe we can act it up a bit. If you like we can have a public argument and dump each other then anyone who’s interested will see that you’re single.”  
“That,” Kylo says, throwing the pillow at Hux gain, “is the most ridiculous thing you have ever said.”

But that evening, once Kylo is caught up philosophy and has promised to work on history the next day, when Unamo slides close to Phasma and Phasma hauls her onto her lap to watch TV together, Kylo grins at Hux and pats his lap. He’s both surprised and delighted when Hux shuffles across and drapes himself over Kylo’s thighs like a satisfied cat, stretching to take up the entirety of the second sofa. Unamo ignores them, even when Phasma turns to smirk at Hux. Hux wriggles and settles when he finds a comfortable position and Kylo rests one hand on Hux’s shoulder, the other gently combing through his hair. Hux only moves when Doph comes back with Thanisson and they need somewhere to sit while they eat pizza from a box balanced between them. When they’re done, Thanisson gets up to dispose of the box then disappears into Doph’s room. Five minutes later, without a word, Doph follows him.

Kylo raises an eyebrow at Hux and Hux grins back, so Kylo gets up and wanders the social area for a minute then goes into Hux’s room. He looks around. By some unspoken agreement, Hux generally comes in search of Kylo when he wants company and Kylo treats Hux’s room as his sanctuary. With the exception of their very first meeting, Hux has made Kylo welcome on the rare occasions he has knocked on Hux’s door, but Kylo would not walk in casually the way Hux does after a sharp rap and a warning call at Kylo’s door. Hux’s books are arranged neatly by course and his notes are meticulously copied up and expanded on after every class. Kylo studies the home made wall-chart with key submission dates for essays marked on in colour coded ink and reads the sticky notes that carry Hux’s checklists for each assessment task.

As Kylo reaches out to pull a pale yellow square from the chart, Hux speaks sharply from the doorway.  
“Don’t touch that!”  
Kylo snatches his hand back. “I was just looking,” he says defensively. “I have not moved anything.”  
Hux casts an eye over the chart and nods, then smiles. “So I see. I like to be organised. Routines and good study habits help me to keep on top of the workload.”  
“And you keep me organised too,” Kylo replies. “Thank you.”  
“You’re welcome,” Hux says. He closes his eyes and shakes his head as a sound comes from the room on the opposite side from Kylo’s. “Not again. I’m fed up with this.”  
“What’s wrong?” Kylo asks, frowning as the noise repeats, becoming a regular groaning squeak. He notices Hux’s face turning pink with embarrassment and then he understands. “Ooh,” he says quietly. “Are they having sex?”  
“Shut up,” Hux says. “Can we go sit in your room? I can’t focus with that in the background.”  
“Sure,” Kylo says, then giggles. He throws himself onto Hux’s bed and bounces until the frame squeaks and hits the wall. Hux watches, face aflame and mouth open, as Kylo sets a punishing rhythm. When Kylo releases an obscene groan, Hux can’t stop himself from laughing. He claps his hand over his mouth, realising with horror exactly how it must sound from outside the room, and it makes them both laugh even more until a sudden series of sharp cracks puncture the air and the mattress sags under Kylo. Kylo leaps off the bed and pulls the mattress back. Hux surveys the damage.  
“You broke my bed,” he observes. “Three slats. I’m sleeping in yours until you fix this.”  
Kylo shrugs. “Can’t be too hard to fix. Come on then.”  
He picks up Hux’s pyjamas and heads for his own room.

It’s a squeeze, but after chatting and watching a film on Kylo’s iPad, somehow they both manage to fit on Kylo’s bed although there’s some shoving and giggling, and Hux sends Kylo to retrieve his pillow and his blankets after the second time Kylo hogs the covers. On his way back, Kylo makes silent eye contact with Phasma, who watches until his door closes again.  
“Hux?” Kylo arranges the extra blankets and pillow.  
Hux tucks the blanket down his back as a buffer against the chill of the wall. “What?” he replies.  
“When you said you’d sleep in my bed,” Kylo says, slipping back onto bed beside Hux. “Did you just mean we should swap rooms?”  
Hux is quiet for a few seconds. “Kylo?” he says with a yawn.  
“What?”  
“Shut the fuck up and let me go to sleep.”

Kylo wakes up cold and stiff. Somehow, Hux has both sets of blankets around him like a cocoon and Kylo is balanced on the very edge of the narrow bed. He gives in to gravity and slides off, landing on the floor with a soft bump. Hux is awake immediately.  
“Kylo? Are you okay?”  
“Yes. Fell out of bed because you hogged the whole space,” he says, sitting up to peer into Hux’s green eyes.  
Hux looks at his phone. “Time to get up anyway,” he says. “Run?”  
Kylo groans and nods. He asks for an easy run, giving the excuse that he has not fully recovered from whatever illness struck him down. He’s used to five miles now and Hux is good at varying the route. Sometimes, like today, they even almost catch up with Phasma who likes to set off while Ben and Hux are still slurping coffee. When they walk back into the flat, Phasma is leading Unamo into the bathroom, hand in hand, towels over their shoulders. Kylo curses.  
“They’ll be in there for a while,” he complains.  
“Then we may as well make a start on your missed history classes,” Hux replies. “Fetch your books while I make us some toast.”  
Kylo does his best to bat his eyelashes. “Cinnamon French toast with honey?”  
Hux laughs. “Fine. I will bribe you with unhealthy breakfast foods.”

Kylo brings out his textbook, folder and spare paper, then goes into Hux’s room to fetch his history notes too. As an afterthought, he brings out both their towels and leaves them outside the bathroom as if staking their places in the shower queue in case Thanisson and Doph attempt to skip ahead of them. He sits at the kitchen table, idly flipping through Hux’s notes and watching Hux cook.  
“Okay, Kylo,” Hux says, smiling over his shoulder at the scrutiny. “What can you tell me about the birth of modern Europe?”  
“Uh?” Kylo blinks and returns his attention to Hux’s neat handwriting. “Gimme a minute.” He reads the introductory bullet points and turns the page to see the start of a mind map. “Nope,” he says. “I need you to talk me through all this.”  
“Okay,” Hux says, sliding a plate in front of Kylo as Phasma and Unamo emerge, pink and giggling, from a steam-filled bathroom. Before the door even closes, Doph darts in and locks the it.  
“Did he not even SEE the towels?” Kylo says, pointing at the floor.  
“Kylo!” Hux raps on the table. “History. Of. Europe.”

Kylo doesn’t get to have his shower until Hux has talked him through two lectures, bookmarked the reading and helped him outline an essay. By that time, Thanisson has replaced Dopheld in the bathroom, and both Unamo and Phasma are sprawled on the sofas, reading and waiting until it is time for whoever has lunch duty to provide food. As soon as Thanisson comes out of the bathroom, Kylo springs up. Hux is right behind him. They’re neck and neck as they reach the bathroom door, wrestling to get in first. Hux slips past Kylo and steps into the bathroom then turns and says in his most commanding voice, “Do hurry up and bring the towels, Kylo.”  
Kylo gapes at him, and Hux winks. Kylo turns, gathers up their towels and walks into the bathroom. Hux closes and locks the door.  
“There better be hot water,” Kylo says, pressing the button that delivers ten seconds of spray then shedding most of his running clothes. He presses the button again then finishes undressing. Hux is undressed too and he gets into the shower first, pulling a face at Kylo. Kylo laughs.  
“Oh no, you are not leaving me with cold water.” Kylo gets in behind Hux, crowding close. He reaches for Hux’s shampoo, but Hux’s slender arm stretches past him and gets it first.  
“Kneel. I may as well wash your hair for you,” Hux says. “You always use my stuff anyway.”  
Kylo scoffs but kneels and closes his eyes. “I thought you hadn’t noticed,” he says.  
“I notice everything,” Hux replies, putting a little shampoo in his hand and rubbing it over both palms before working it into a lather in Kylo’s thick hair. “Especially when I have to replace my shampoo and conditioner three times as often as usual and you smell of my products every day.”

Hux has long, slender fingers and massages Kylo’s scalp slowly with just the right pressure and a hint of a scratch now and then. Kylo lets out a contented little sigh at the pleasant frisson tingling over the skin of his upper back and shoulders. Hux massages a little harder and Kylo realises with horror that he now feels a very pleasant frisson at the base of his cock.  
“Um,” Kylo says as Hux pulls him back to rinse. “Swap and I’ll do you.” He realises how that might sound. “Your hair, I mean I’ll do your hair.”  
Hux snorts and turns then kneels as Kylo gets to his feet. Kylo does his best to keep his semi from swinging against Hux but it’s a small shower and every time Kylo moves, his cock brushes Hux’s skin and fills out a little more.  
Hux gets up, rinses and turns. He looks down and laughs. “I see we have a situation here,” he says, apparently completely unembarrassed. Kylo looks down too. Hux is as hard as he is. “We may as well get each other off,” Hux says, “if you’re up for it.”  
Kyo’s jaw drops. “I’m not going to kiss you or declare undying love,” Hux says with a snigger at Kylo’s surprise. “I just think it would be nice to touch someone else for a change. And be touched. I’m bored with my own hand.”  
The more he thinks about it the more Kylo wants this. “Okay,” he says, and giggles when Hux clasps his cock. Kylo strokes Hux’s cock too and they both laugh at their red faces. It’s nice, but it’s not getting anywhere, Kylo thinks, and he’s caught by a sudden fear that Hux will think he’s no good at this. He stops, stills Hux’s hand and says, “There has to be a better way to do this.”  
“There is,” Hux says. “Turn around. I’ll get off between your thighs while I use my hand on you.”  
Kylo agrees and turns. Hux uses the slipperiest substance he can reach—Doph’s hair conditioner—to lubricate the tops of Kylo’s thighs and soon he’s thrusting between them while he strokes Kylo’s cock.  
Kylo comes embarrassingly quickly, mutters, “wait,” and turns to face Hux. He closes his thighs on Hux’s cock again and tells Hux to move. He puts his hands on Hux’s ass to help out and murmurs, “Want me to finger you?”  
Hux nods, then gasps and comes as Kylo’s finger rubs around his hole and presses in. Hux clings to Kylo for a minute, then Kylo laughs softly and starts the shower up again to clean up.

For the rest of the term, they sleep in Kylo’s bed every night and get each other off in the shower after running, on condition that there is nobody else around in the apartment. Kylo tells himself it’s convenient to have a friend like Hux but they are not a couple because they don’t do the things he sees couples do around campus, like hold hands and kiss. Even when their across-the-hall neighbours call to invite _Phas, Unamo, Doph, Than, Kyloan’hux_ to their post-exams, end of term party, Kylo frowns at the run-together names but Hux smiles and shrugs.

If Kylo misses Hux badly over the Christmas and New Year break, he puts it down to the difficulty of slotting back into life with his parents. If he texts Hux several times a day, he reasons that’s how friends communicate. If Hux stops texting back over the last weekend, it’s because he’s too busy preparing for the new term. If the first thing Kylo does when his minders deliver him back to campus in January is head for Hux’s room, it’s because he missed his study-buddy a normal amount.  
He does not expect Hux’s room to be empty. He can feel the lack of presence even before he checks the wardrobe and the drawers and find all trace of Hux gone. He sits heavily on the end of Hux’s bed, then gets up and races to his own room. It is exactly as he left it, but without any sign that Hux has ever been here. The kitchen cupboard still has cans and packets labelled _H & K_ but there is no sign of the man who put up with his teasing over labelling everything. Kylo slumps onto a chair.

“He’s gone.”  
Phasma walks over and puts a hand on Kylo’s shoulder. “Someone higher up found out about your relationship. Hux has been relieved of duty.”  
“What are you talking about, Phasma?” Kylo fights back tears. “He’s my friend.”  
“Was,” Phasma says with a deep sigh. “Was your friend. Was your assigned mentor and primary bodyguard. Someone else will be assigned to make sure you pass. Look.” She sighs again, leans in and lowers her voice. “Do you want to talk to him?”  
Kylo nods. Phasma hands him a very basic phone.  
“It’s not his fault, Kylo.”

Kylo takes the phone. With cement in his lungs and bricks where his stomach should be, he calls the only stored number. It’s answered after two rings.  
“Phas? Is he okay?”  
“Hux.” Kylo swallows with difficulty. “It’s me. What the fuck is happening?”  
“I got fired,” Hux says. “You weren’t supposed to know. I only got on your course because I was hired to be your bodyguard and course buddy. I wasn’t supposed to—” Hux stops. “It got out that we’re... close. And that’s unprofessional.”  
“You were my friend because you were paid to like me?” Kylo’s legs feel like rubber bands and his head spins.  
“No!” Hux blurts. “Well, yes, at first. But I do like you. A lot. You were more than a friend, Kylo.”  
Kylo drops his head into his free hand. He can barely concentrate on Hux’s words.  
“I’m sorry I never told you. I wasn’t allowed to.”  
“Not allowed to tell me you were paid to be with me?” Kylo regrets the acid tone of his voice as soon as the words are out.  
“No, you monumental asshat!” Hux cries. “I wasn’t allowed to tell you that I fell in love within two weeks of meeting you.” Hux sighs. “Well then. Someone else will help keep you on track for a first.”  
Kylo scowls silently while he thinks, aware that Hux is waiting for him to say something. After a minute, Kylo sets his face into a determined grimace and says, “I want you to stay with me. If you’re not my minder then there’s nothing stopping us from being together, right? Can you quit? I bet the university will have you back. I can guarantee funds for your fees. Screw decorum and diplomacy. I’ll tell everyone. I’ll get us on the news tonight if I have to.”  
“Kylo, don’t,” Hux says. “I don’t even know who you really are. Not for sure. All I was told was that a student called Kylo Ren was under my protection and not to let you out of my sight.”  
Kylo gets up and paces while he thinks some more. It’s probably true that Hux doesn’t know his real name since his parents have been very careful to keep him out of public view since he was a small child. The last time photos of him hit the news he was a skinny twelve year old in a suit that hung from his shoulders and barely reached his ankles.  
“All right,” he says. “Tell me where you are. I’ll send a cab. We’re going to see my mother, Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan.”

*****

Cameras flash and Kylo grins back at polished lenses as he poses with a ribbon-tied paper scroll in his hands and the stupidest hat he has ever worn rammed onto his hair. He tosses his head to flick the tassel out of his face and the hat almost flips off too. He catches a glimpse of himself in the plate glass window of the hall and thinks that he really does look good in flowing black robes.  
“Ben, sweetheart?” Kylo looks over and smiles wider. “Come and join a family pose for _The Galactic Herald_ will you?”  
“Okay,” he says and trots over. He allows the photographer to position the three of them, proud parents and a graduating son, waits for a few photos to be taken, then pulls away. Flanked by minders, he weaves through the crowd until he sees a flash of bright copper.  
“Hey! Hux! Over here!”  
Kylo waves. Hux sees him and waves back, holding his hand out until Kylo is close enough to clasp it.  
“Kylo,” Hux pulls him into a hug. A jowly, sour faced man watches and a few people point their phone cameras at them. Hux pulls back and smiles. “This is my father, Commandant Brendol Hux. Retired. Father,” Hux says, turning to the scowling man. “This is Kylo R—”  
“I know _exactly_ who he is,” Brendol snaps, then turns and marches away, shouldering other graduates and parents out of his way.  
“So he took the news as well as you expected?” Kylo says with a laugh.  
Hux nods. “I think by the end of the day I will have been completely disowned. Are you going to go through with it?”  
“Yes, unless you changed your mind.” Hux shakes his head and Kylo smiles. “This way,” Kylo says, tugging at Hux’s arm. He leads Hux past the security cordon to where his parents stand politely sipping Cava and making conversation with the university vice-chancellor.  
“Mom, dad, this is Hux.”  
Hands are shaken, pleasantries are exchanged and drinks are poured.  
“Wasn’t your old man the Naval officer who ordered—”  
“Dad!” Kylo glares at Han. “You promised.”  
“No war talk,” Leia says. “We know. It was a long time ago and Armitage here is not his father.”  
“Just making conversation,” Han says, winking at Hux. “Boy can take a joke, right?”  
“He better be able to,” Leia mutters.  
Kylo grins. He signals one of the photographers behind the barrier and a murmur rises above the gathered press. Kylo takes Hux by both hands and smiles.

Hux gives the smallest of nods and Kylo drops to one knee.


End file.
